As the gavel fell on a somber Monday in Singapore, the judiciary scripted the final chapter of the city-state’s most colossal money laundering saga. Su Jianfeng, whose journey from an obscure arrival in 2019 to a linchpin in a nefarious financial empire, received a sentence of 17 months behind bars.
An image captured not long after his arrival, depicting a seemingly innocuous Su, scarcely foretold the undercurrents of deception. Well known to the city now, Su admitted to his role: laundering no less than S$3 billion (US$2.2 billion), funneling the vast sums through the veins of Singapore’s unsuspecting financial system.
In a court offering no sympathies, Su Jianfeng, last week, confessed to his misdeeds with a nod—money laundering under the stringent Singapore’s Corruption, Drug Trafficking, and Other Serious Crimes Act, accompanied by an act of forgery. Surrendered, Su’s assets, now amounting to S$178.9 million (US$132 million), were relinquished to the authorities.
His crimes? Housing S$551K (US$407K) borne out of an unlawful Philippine gambling enterprise, and conjuring a false property-sale construct to justify murky deposits into his accounts.
The ripple effects of the exposure, in August 2023, sent shockwaves across the island, shaking its financial foundations. Su’s sentencing might signal closure for a court docket, but a murmur persists, conjecturing the extent of the network that remains beyond reach. Rumors whisper of hundreds, networks cast like spider webs, still untouched.
Nine others, akin to Su’s shadowy operations, have had their freedoms truncated, with sentences ranging from 12 to 18 months. But the real narrative lies in inquiry; how did the money launderers elude the vigilant eyes of Singapore’s banks? How did they manage to embed themselves in legitimate Singaporean business veneers, a masquerade for the illicit underbelly within?
This case has spurred introspective analysis within Singapore’s banking regulations, a financial haven for the affluent.
Our tale pivots to the Fujan clan, the nexus of the defendants, all hailing from the prolific province in China. Passports were their masks, acquired commodities from Cambodia to Dominica. Su himself sported dual citizenship, flaunting a Vanuatu passport against an investment of $130K, as documented by the island government’s portal.
His arrival story painted him as a property magnate, dealing in Dubaian real estates, with familial hops from Malaysia to the Philippines. But Singapore, he claimed is for education—a future for his offspring.
Yet, the façade crumbled in August 2021. When scrutinizing eyes prodded into suspicious deposits with a magnitude of around S$2 million, Su proffered a sales contract from Dubai, a document later unmasked as a forgery.
Su’s plea softened the legal blow, yet the court’s consideration of three similar charges—each transaction an audacious amount up to S$7 million (US$5 million)—underscored his disdain for legality, as voiced by chief prosecutor Tan Kiat Pheng.
With due process afforded and sentences handed, Singapore issues a clarion clarion call, a warning fired into the void—flout our laws, and face unfaltering justice.
